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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26742934">worn cover, page turner</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/delsalami/pseuds/delsalami'>delsalami</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>flatwound strings [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Era, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Romantic Gestures, but jack doesnt know hes pining, i have a walking home scene obsession</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:07:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,504</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26742934</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/delsalami/pseuds/delsalami</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack finally realizes what he's been doing all this time, and decides to do something about it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>David Jacobs/Jack Kelly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>flatwound strings [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946593</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>71</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. a thousand times</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>sequel to hard for me to put you on the back burner. you don't really have to read that first, but I'd sure like it if you did :)<br/>again, never watched Newsies (1992) but I love Sarah Jacobs with my whole heart. also again, title from Flatwound Strings by Skating Polly.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> Things were different at the lodging house now. Jack wasn’t glued to Katherine’s side anymore, because she was next to Sarah now. Jack wasn’t even spending much time with Race anymore, because he and Albert were playing some Italian card game and giving each other kisses when they got points. So Jack sat on his bed with Davey. </p><p> It was a familiar kind of different, Jack felt. It had been less than a month since Katherine and Sarah had gotten together, but it felt like the new routine was as old as life itself. It was comfortable, sitting with Davey, and easier than sitting with the other newsies too; they always complained about someone else stealing their nickel or their pillow, or made fun of him about Katherine or of Race and Albert. Davey just talked. Davey had a nice way of talking, and when he got excited, he’d get this gleam in his eye that Jack tried and tried and tried to capture with a pencil on a spare newspaper. </p><p> He’d never quite succeeded, even after what felt like a thousand times. Sometimes he got close, and if he got close enough he’d keep the drawings under his pillow, and occasionally he’d bring them back out when Davey went home and he missed him. </p><p> That night, he’d gotten close. Davey was talking about a book he’d borrowed from the library. A couple pages were missing from it, and the spine was cracked to the point of unreadability, but it was incredible, Davey said. It must have been, from the upturn of his mouth and the shine of his eyes that appeared just from talking about it. Jack watched Davey talk, wondering if he’d ever get his eyes right.</p><p> “Wait, Jack, are you actually <em> listening </em> to me?” Davey asked. He seemed pleasantly surprised, and Jack hoped his disbelief was a joke. </p><p> “Now, what would I do that for?” Jack asked, grinning. That was definitely a joke, because Jack was always listening. Maybe he only understood the guy less than half the time, but he was always listening to him. </p><p> Davey gave him that look of his, the one that he meant to convey disappointment, but Jack could see the smile he was suppressing. Jack knew that look well, being on the receiving end of it fifty times a day. But Jack knew every one of Davey’s expressions well. Jack looked at Davey so much he had his face memorized.</p><p> Then Davey rolled his eyes good-naturedly, because he knew Jack wasn’t going to take the joke back, and said, “I just figured that, since you weren’t drawing, you were actually trying to learn something.”</p><p> “Nah, never.” </p><p> “What, then?” </p><p> “I was just lookin’ at ya,” Jack told him. </p><p> Davey’s face went really red, for some reason, and he ducked his head. “Oh,” he murmured. </p><p> Jack picked up his pencil again, to draw that. It was endearing, and Jack wanted to remember it as best he could. </p><p> But the movement had piqued Davey’s curiosity, apparently, and he leaned over to see Jack’s newspaper. “What were you drawing?” </p><p> Jack handed Davey the newspaper, and he stared at it for a long time. Jack watched Davey look at it, watched it dawn on him that Jack had drawn him, watched that gleam in his eyes appear <em>for Jack</em>. </p><p> “This is me,” Davey finally said.</p><p> “Yeah,” Jack agreed. “Is it that messed up that you hadda take all that time to figure it out?” he added jokingly. He knew it was spot-on; he drew Davey so much he could probably do it with his eyes closed. </p><p> “No, it’s—well, it’s perfect,” Davey said. He looked up at Jack, then back down at the drawing. “Can I have it?” </p><p> “What? Sure. Why?” </p><p> Davey blushed again. “I mean, no one’s ever taken the time to draw me. They don’t wanna look at me for that long, I guess.” He laughed a little, to offset how sad that was.</p><p> “That ain’t right,” Jack said, and lifted up his pillow. There were maybe nine, ten drawings under it. They weren’t all Davey. There was one of Race, a couple of Crutchie, a few of the other newsies. Jack sorted through the pile, putting the ones that weren’t Davey back under the pillow.</p><p> Davey took the others from Jack and looked at them. “More than once?” he asked rhetorically. He was looking at six of them all beside each other. He touched one of them, like he was expecting it to have a texture other than newspaper.</p><p> “Yeah, these are just the ones I kept,” Jack replied casually, leaning back against the headboard. </p><p> “Oh.” Davey’s face was very red again, and he had this little smile that Jack wanted to draw. He wasn’t going to, though. He was going to keep that one right near his heart, for himself. He’d never seen Davey give that smile to anyone else before, only Jack, and he didn’t want one of the other newsies to look at his drawings and see it. </p><p> Davey was looking at him again, leaning toward him. Jack gave him an easy smile, and Davey jerked back suddenly. “I’m… gonna go home,” Davey said. He held the paper to his chest. “Thanks, Jack, I’ll see ya tomorrow.” </p><p> He stood up and the bed creaked, and he left quickly and the stairs creaked, too. Jack looked to Sarah and Katherine, and they looked confused, because the entire reason Davey hung out at the lodging house now was to walk Sarah home at night. Jack collected the other drawings of Davey, and put them back under his pillow. </p><p> “I’ll walk ya home later, Sarah,” Jack called to reassure her, and went to watch Sniper and Finch lose terribly at that card game Race and Albert were always playing. </p><p> </p><p> Jack held the door open for Sarah and Katherine and purposely tried to close it on Race, who was walking Katherine home that night. Race gave him a grin and a rude gesture, and he and Katherine bid Sarah goodnight before they started toward the Pulitzer residence, and Sarah and Jack left for where the Jacobs lived. </p><p> They walked for a while, and Jack vaguely noted that a streetlight was unlit, right before Sarah began speaking. </p><p> “Do you have feelings for David?” she asked.</p><p> Jack’s jaw dropped and he stopped walking, forgetting how to function for a moment. “Huh?” he finally, intelligently, blurted. It alerted Sarah to the fact that he was behind her, now, so she stopped walking as well and began to repeat herself. </p><p> “Do you have feelings for—?” </p><p> “Nah, I heard ya,” Jack interrupted. “Where’d you get that from?” </p><p> Sarah raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you realize how often you stare at him?” </p><p> “I’s just drawin’ him!” Jack protested. </p><p> Somehow her eyebrow went up higher. “Isn’t that what you did to woo Katherine?” </p><p> Jack spluttered. “Nuh-uh!” That was totally different, so Jack said as much, then explained, “I drew that to give to Katherine. I draw Davey just to keep.” </p><p> “Mhm.” She started walking again, and Jack followed suit. “Just so that you can look at David when he’s not around, right?” </p><p> “Yeah.” </p><p> “That’s really romantic, Jack.” </p><p> “It ain’t romantic! It’s regular! We’s friends!” Sarah didn’t answer for a long time, and Jack said, “Shit, do I have feelings for Davey?”</p><p> “I think so.” </p><p> They left it at that, forcing Jack to contemplate what Sarah had said. Sure, Jack liked having Davey around. He liked listening to Davey talk, he liked when Davey was excited about something, he liked when Davey asked Jack what he thought and he liked when Davey paid attention to his answer. He liked the way Davey’s hand sometimes brushed against his arm, and then Davey pressed his hand against where they’d touched as a sort of apology. He liked the way Davey would grin at him when he said something especially smart or especially stupid. </p><p> “Shit, Sarah, I like Davey,” Jack said. </p><p> “Would you like to come in and tell him that?” Sarah offered. Jack hadn’t even noticed that they were very nearly at the Jacobs’ door. </p><p> Jack felt the blood drain out of his face. “No way. Does Davey even like boys?” </p><p> Sarah rolled her eyes. She didn’t do it quite the same as Davey. It felt more judgmental when she did it. “Yes, he does, and I think he’d be very pleased to hear that you do as well.” </p><p> A revelation. Did Davey like Jack? Had Davey liked Jack for a long time? How had Jack not noticed? Probably the same way he hadn’t noticed that he, himself, liked Davey. “I… not tonight. I gotta have somethin’ better than just words.” </p><p> Sarah seemed confused, but she opened her front door and said, “Okay. See you tomorrow then. Thanks for walking me home, David will appreciate it.” </p><p> “‘Night, Sarah.”</p><p> “Goodnight, Jack,” she said. She closed her door behind her, and Jack began his walk home. He thought about taking a detour to Medda’s, but it was late and he didn’t want the other newsies to worry about him. He’d do it tomorrow. For now, he’d go over the conversation he’d had with Sarah, and look at the drawings of Davey he’d done. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. all the time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span> Jack sold quickly that day, thankfully. It had been a good headline, and everyone was in a good mood all day. Rather than go to the lodging house and bask in the sense of victory with everyone else, he went to the Bowery and into Medda’s theater. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “Hey, Jack! It’s been too long!” she exclaimed as soon as she saw him, and pulled him into a hug.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “Sorry, Miss Medda, been busy with, ya know, the union,” Jack explained. He really ought to have visited her more often. It was rude to only come by when he needed something. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “And your girlfriend?” Medda teased. Jack’s face must have revealed something to her, or maybe Medda could read minds (which Jack wouldn’t dismiss), because her smile fell and her eyebrows knit together, and she asked, “Did something happen between you two?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “We broke up, but don’t worry, Miss Medda, it was for the best. I got my eye on someone else now.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Medda hummed, and looked him up and down. “Is it that Davey fellow?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Jack took a step back. “How’d you know?” Maybe she really could read minds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Medda shook her head. “Medda just knows, honey,” she told him. “So what are ya doin’ here instead of with your boy?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “I ain’t told him yet,” Jack explained. “I wanted to paint him somethin’.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “Well, be my guest.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span> Jack was pretty sure he had paint on his face, and the painting had taken longer than he’d wanted it to. But with colours, he could finally get Davey’s eyes right. Jack almost wanted to keep it for himself. He wouldn’t; it belonged with Davey, but if he kept it, it would almost be like Davey was with him all the time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Jack walked briskly toward the lodging house, and it was darker outside than he expected it to be, especially with that unlit streetlight at the corner. He hoped he’d catch Davey before he left for home. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> And Jack turned right under the streetlight and ran directly into him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “Jack!” Davey exclaimed. “We wondered where you were!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “I was at Medda’s,” Jack told him. “Uh…” He glanced at Sarah. She smirked at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “I’m gonna go on ahead, David,” Sarah said, patting him on the arm, and took a step. She patted Jack on the arm too, and mouthed, “Good luck,” before starting forward with a skip in her step. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Jack waited a few seconds before saying anything. “I was at Medda’s,” he repeated. He’d spent so much time on that painting, one might have thought he’d spend some time figuring out what he was going to say to Davey. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “You said. And you’ve got paint on your face,” Davey pointed out. He wore a soft smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Jack cursed softly and rubbed at his cheek. He knew he’d felt dried paint on his skin, but he’d ignored it. Now he wanted everything to be perfect.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “You’re not gonna get it,” Davey said, and added, “It’s cute.” Then he went very red, and sputtered, “I mean, not that, um, not that you’re—or I’m not—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “Relax, Dave,” Jack said, and Davey’s shoulders dropped away from his ears and he fell silent, face as red as ever. “I, uh, I painted ya somethin’. That's why I was at Medda's.” Jack pulled a thick piece of paper from his bag. He hadn’t been able to get a canvas, they were outrageously expensive, and he still needed to eat, but he’d bought one of those nice pads of heavy paper, and had used one of those sheets for his painting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Davey took the paper from him, flipped it over so he could see it, and said “Jack....” His voice was high-pitched, like he’d choked on the word. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “Um, so I… think you’re real beautiful. And I like drawin’ ya so much I thought I’d paint ya. And you liked my drawing so much I thought I’d give it to ya.” Jack’s fingers twitched. It was a lot easier when he started off by flirting with people. At least that way he didn’t have to confess how much he adored them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “You think I’m beautiful?” Davey repeated. He was looking at Jack, now, and that made him even more nervous. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “Well, yeah. I like lookin’ at you. That’s why I draw you so much. Um. This ain’t really comin’ out right. Basically, Dave, I like you an awful lot. I really like spendin’ time with you, and I like that gleam in your eyes when you’re talkin’ all excited, and I like how you smile at me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Davey looked at him intensely. His eyes were watering a little, Jack noticed. “Jackie….” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “I wanna hold your hand, and I wanna kiss you. I wanna make you smile every chance I can get. I wanna listen to you talk forever. I wanna be beside you all the time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Davey grinned, and a tear slipped down his cheek. “Okay,” he said, stepping closer. “We can do all that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Jack smiled in return, and put his hand on Davey’s jaw. “We’ll start with a kiss, yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “Yeah.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> They leaned in, and pressed their lips together softly in the dark of the streetlamp. Davey put one of his hands on Jack’s waist, but then pulled away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “We can’t do this here,” he whispered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “Come back to the lodging house with me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “I can’t. I would love to, but I can’t.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “I know.” Jack kissed Davey again, barely. It was quick, and gentle, just a brush of their lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Davey said, seriously, like a promise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “I’m lookin’ forward to it already.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Davey smiled, kissed Jack one more time, and they broke away from each other. In the morning, they’d hold each other close again, but for now, they said goodnight and went their separate ways. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hello! thank you for reading this! i have another javid fic that i strongly recommend. wink.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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